


As the Sun Rises

by Mysticmataki



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: No interaction with MC in this just soft thoughts and introspection <3, Zine Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysticmataki/pseuds/Mysticmataki
Summary: Jihyun finds himself face to face with the rising sun and decides to take the time to make a delicious breakfast.One of my contributions to the now closed Mystic Cuisine Cookbook! Was written in collaboration with art from Ryn (@nmaibou_ on twitter).
Relationships: V | Kim Jihyun/Main Character
Kudos: 1





	As the Sun Rises

An artist can’t help when inspiration strikes.

It can happen in the middle of the day, when they’re running an errand. Other times it’s under pressure, the stress of a deadline kicking in and giving them the perfect idea to execute. And sometimes, just sometimes, it can be right before they go to sleep, their head moments away from hitting the pillow.

That had happened for Jihyun the night before. MC was already curled in their shared bed, peaceful and serene and as he crawled in next to her the image flashed in his mind begging to be put on canvas. He immediately jumped out, changed back into his working clothes and rushed to the studio, the desire, no need, to paint rushing through him. The sense of safety he had felt as he saw her spurred something in him, and as the navy blue and cerulean hit the white canvas he was able to express that in a whole other way. Hours had passed and he was fully entrenched in his work before he blinked and the sky started to turn from black to purple and then to pink as the sun began to peek out over the horizon.

Rubbing his eyes, he laughed to himself, muttering, “When was the last time I stayed up all night?” It had been a long time, he knew that. He used to spend nights pacing up and down the halls, his mind unable to stop running and imagining the worst, but that voice had quieted over the years.

He stood up to stretch, letting out a small yawn as he looked at his watch. “I need some coffee,” he said with a small shake of his head before he started walking to the kitchen. Entering it, his eyes honed in on the espresso maker, it calling to him before he caught an out of place object sitting on the counter next to it. Strolling over, he realized it was the pain de campagne that he had left out the night before, a quick snack that he had grabbed in haste before getting to work. Picking it up, he let out a sigh as he lightly squeezed it and not only heard the crunch of the crust but felt the way it didn’t give as easily as it had the night before.

“Well, that’s gone to waste.”

Moving to throw it in the trash, MC’s face popped into his mind and he let out a laugh at the image he had conjured; her fussing if she found it in the bin, quickly going into a speech about how the bread wasn’t bad, it just had to have a new purpose.

Turning back from the trash and towards the counter, he got to work cutting the bread into even slices, grabbed the milk and eggs from the refrigerator and the vanilla from a nearby cupboard and whisked that all together before pouring it into a dish, and started to lay the slices into it, letting the stale bread soak in the eggy mixture. As he heated up the skillet on the stove he flipped the pieces over, letting the other side get coated as he threw a generous helping of butter into the pan, letting that melt and waiting until the temperature was just right before dropping a slice of the soaked bread into it. Looking to the window that overlooked their garden he smiled as the sky started to turn to blue, a wonderful color on a beautifully clear day. 

Jihyun could say with certainty that he was happy. If you had told him at any point in his life before meeting the woman sleeping down the hall from him that he would one day be so inspired by someone that they influenced even the tiniest of decisions he would have just politely nodded, but now here he was making French toast at sunrise so he wouldn’t waste half a loaf of bread. Pulling it off the stove and arranging it on a plate, he placed it on a tray and started to walk down towards their bedroom. He knew that her sleepy smile would be filled with delight when she saw what he’d done, and he couldn’t wait to be graced with it. 

Maybe inspiration would strike again.


End file.
